


Ghastly Bespoke, Wedding Planner from Hell

by Evren Rambunctious (DHume)



Series: Valduggery Oneshots [2]
Category: Skulduggery Pleasant - Derek Landy
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-13
Updated: 2013-06-13
Packaged: 2017-12-14 22:08:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/841911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DHume/pseuds/Evren%20Rambunctious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for Valduggery Week, 'Wedding' Prompt.<br/>(In the AU where Skulduggery gives a damn about the Done Thing.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghastly Bespoke, Wedding Planner from Hell

Skulduggery Pleasant sat in the house he shared with his fiancee, Valkyrie Cain, and shook his head.

“Mages don’t, as a rule, marry mortals. It’s more common now, and of course even that is preferable to established Mage families marrying non-established ones. Prejudice and culture-clash you see. It’s a tad awkward to meet the in-laws if there’s a chance they hunted your ancestors for sport.”

 

Valkrie looked over to the armchair where Skulduggery was sat, opposite a coffee table groaning with wedding plan paraphenalia, and raised an eyebrow.

 

“So, you can’t get married to the- the Nouveau Magicke?” Valkyrie made little air quotes with her hands and looked at him sceptically.

 

“Good word.”

“Thanks.”

“But no. I’m afraid I cannot besmirch my family name any further by marrying a woman without a good family crest to call her own.”

 

Valkyrie started to laugh, then stopped.

 

“Oh my god, you’re Draco Malfoy.”

 

“I don’t know who that is.”

 

“You know, snotty blonde kid in Harry Potter, wears green, huge neophobe…” she trailed off expectantly, almost struggling to see his face over the bolts of linen and venue brochures. He looked back at her, deadpan.

 

“No, I don’t know who that is, because if I suspected you were comparing me to the wizard antagonist in a terrible children’s book series I would have to leave now. And never come back.”

 

“You’re just purebloodist!”

 

“Valkyrie, that’s not even a word.”

 

Valkyrie sighed and flopped back into the armchair. It was a good flop, equal parts exasperation and tiredness. They’d been going over the differences between mortal and Mage weddings for what seemed like hours. Ghastly had sent them a folder of comparisons with diagrams and lift away fabric samples. It was almost too heavy for her to lift.

 

She eventually managed to muster the energy to raise her head up and look at Skulduggery balefully.

“So what are we going to do about it?”

 

He looked at her for a moment, made a noise like a dramatic sigh. “Call it off, I suppose.”

“Skulduggery-“

“It doesn’t matter, does it?”

Valkyrie narrowed her eyes. “Then why did you bring it up?”

“Because it’s on Page Ten, Decorations. Right there.” he jabbed a gloved finger at a particularly offensive page with lots of rubbish-looking heraldic lions and tigers, causing the folder balanced between them to tip alarmingly. Valkyrie grabbed to steady it. If the folder fell, it would probably dent the floor.

“So’s the bit about the blood sacrifices of the locals mortals from a like, 400AD, but I don’t think Ghastly’s going to insist on that one.”

Skulduggery shut the folder, lifted it up as easily as if it were a paperback and tossed it into Valkyrie’s lap, sitting up and ignoring her “Oof!”

“I’ll make you some lunch.”

Winded, Valkyrie could only glare.

“Want anything in particular? I need to make a few calls, so you’ll be dining alone, I’m afraid.” He tilted his head smugly. “Get it? Because you always technically dine alone, if I’m sitting with you. That’s the joke.”

Valkyrie glared murder at him. He recognised when to shut up and walked off to the kitchen with a little more speed than was dignified, even for him.

 

After Valkyrie had managed to extricate herself from the folder, the pile of books covering every available surface- she didn’t know where Ghastly had found them all- and sat down at their small dining table, Skulduggery left to pace around one of their numerous sitting rooms in order to take his mysterious call. Valkyrie dug into her sandwich. For once, it wasn’t too salty or spicy or too much of any one thing. Valkyrie had taken to writing down exactly how she liked basic things like tea, cereal and pasta, and stickynoting the quantities and short descriptions of how food was supposed to look on all the cupboards. Skulduggery’s lack of experience with food made since the Jacobean era meant he needed instruction on the most basic of things, but they seemed to be making a breakthrough.

The third bite revealed about half a pack of butter and Valkyrie coughed.

Perhaps not, then.

 

After she had finished taking apart and putting back together again the sandwich, Valkyrie went over to the cabinet and wrote “slice of butter as thin as a few pages in a book, not the whole book itself” under the “spreads” stickynote. It was a nice thought, though. She’d just finished slurping through a cup of coffee she’d made herself when Skulduggery came back into the room.   
“We have somewhere to be. Places to go. C’mon, get your coat.”  
“Go where?” After an entire morning of negotiating font and colour choices for the bloody invitations amongst other things, Valkyrie wanted nothing more than to sit and watch crappy television or one of the DVDs they rented and inevitably didn’t have time to see.

Skulduggery crossed over and snatched the coffee mug out of her hand, rummaging around under the sink for a thermos. “You can take this, but we’ve got to go.”

Valkyrie stood up.

“Hang on, is it a murder? No murders on sundays, unless they’re hilarious or about the world needing saving, I thought Ravel made you promise that one-”

“Not telling. It’s, hmm, not horrific.”  
“Not horrific. Not horrific, he tells me,” Valkyrie grumbled as she followed him out to their car. “We have great communications skills, yes we do! Is it horrific? No. Lovely dear, that’s all I ever wanted to know…”

He passed her the thermos and she took it gratefully. “Just so you know, I want more coffee after this. Preferably with whipped cream and those sprinkle things. Also, I need to buy pizza for tonight.”

Skulduggery didn’t say anything. Clipped himself in, put the engine in gear, unlocked the garage.   
Valkyrie wondered where they were going. ‘Not Horrific’ implied it was a crime scene, but then again, horrific could mean something to do with the Sanctuary, or more wedding preparations, or talking to anyone who wasn’t them, really. She turned on the radio and looked out of the window to pass the time when Skulduggery wasn’t forthcoming about her questions, and soon enough they reached their destination- an art gallery in Dublin. Skulduggery parked and they got out of the car. Skulduggery walked stiffly ahead and Valkyrie craned her neck as she looked up, taking in the bizarre architecture and flags advertising some exhibition or other.

“An art gallery.”  
“Culture isn’t horrific, is it?”  
“You’re telling me we’re going to urgently look at some art.”  
“Well, yes.”  
“Has a sculpture committed any crimes, recently? Did the still life mug someone last week?”  
Skulduggery turned and looked at her, huffing in amusement.

“Do you remember when we first met, and I told you that often nothing is as it seems? Well, this is completely different.”  
“You’re impossible,” Valkyrie replied, but she took his hand anyway. He seemed to relax until she raised herself up to her tiptoes and whispered, “If I’ve missed the Bourne Supremacy for some Renaissance nudes or something, I’m telling Ghastly that the wedding’s off and god help you when he catches you.”

—

The gallery was nearly empty, full of older couples and a few bored art students sat on folding chairs and sketching the busts. Skulduggery went straight to the lift and pressed the locked button marked ‘Private Archives’. He fished a key out of his jacket and unlocked the button. The lift whooshed downwards.

The underground archive floor was massive- all the partitions separating the galleries, all the toilet and cafe-space from upstairs left empty space. It was almost dark, too; just lit enough light needed, no more. They followed signs for ‘Offices’ and presently everything became lighter.

The office doors were grand, and instead of names there were crests. Something clicked in Valkyrie’s head.

They knocked on the door emblazoned with a leopard and crossed swords as well as a few others.

“That’s Ghastly’s crest, isn’t it?” Valkyrie asked, pointing.

“Yes, it is.”  
“Is he in there?”  
Skulduggery didn’t have time to answer. The door opened and a small, tired-looking man with a sweater vest and rolled shirtsleeves answered the door.   
“Come in, come in.”  
They stepped through and the man introduced himself as Mr. Marshall. He gestured towards some chairs, and they both sat down. They were uncomfortable chairs, and Valkyrie could see that Mr. Mashall’s own was a plush number. She had no idea why they were there, but the school-principal-like setting brough images flashing through her head- perhaps after all these years Ghastly had found out about the vault break-in? Were they in trouble? The man busied himself with papers and then looked up, focussing on Valkyrie.

“So. Everything having gone to plan, it is my great honour to hand over the artwork that Mister Pleasant,” he nodded his head in Skulduggery’s direction, “Commissioned in your honour, Miss Cain.” He gave a little cough and shuffled the papers before handing them over to Skulduggery.

Valkyrie had no idea what was going on. What art? Of what? Had he had this painter make her a joke portrait, like those everwhere in Gordon’s house? But why all this fuss over a joke?  
“It is my understating that as a young mage without a crest of your own, despite a relation to the great Gordon Edgely, who I had the pleasure of researching with a few decades back- great man, great man- Mister Pleasant wished to bestow you with one, and, well, went through the proper channels.” Marshall did a little pleased gesture at himself. “As you can see-” and here he pointed at all the paintings lining the walls, lushly detailed things that looked like they belonged in Buckingham Palace or somewhere else just as posh- “my Adept discipline works in conjunction with my skills to produce works of art not only realised in whichever medium you desire but officiated and well-researched too. But enough of the spiel!” he gave a dry little laugh. “Those are the papers for said crest, all sealed and stamped on vellum, as per tradition.” He looked back at Skulduggery. “And here is the piece itself. Would you like to see it here, or take it away?”  
“Take it away, please.” Skulduggery’s voice came from Valkyrie’s right, but she hardly noticed. A crest! A family crest! What was going on? What would it look like?

Skulduggery got up to thank the man and ushered her out, holding the wrapped canvas under his arm. Valkyrie went to open her mouth, a thousand questions, but he put a finger to her lips. “All will be revealed. I wanted you to see the archives- it’s almost a once-in-a-lifetime-opportunity- otherwise I wouldn’t have told you anything. This was my surprise.”

He walked quickly to the lift. “I only had that key for one use only- some of the magical artworks here have dangerous properties, and so they don’t let just anyone down here. We’ll have to make sure we get the lift quickly.”  
Valkyrie walked behind him, trying to keep up with his long strides, but he kept explaining calmly, his version of nervous. They got in the lift, whooshed back up again, passed the visitors looking for all the world like they’d robbed the place, luckily passed out of the building without being stopped. “Would you still like your coffee? We can get the pizza now, if you’d like, but I didn’t think you’d want to.” Valkyrie shook her head. “No. I’m dying of curiosity. Can’t I look now?”

“What, in this car park? And ruin the suspense?” He sounded almost offended. “No.”

 

—

“You can come in now.”

Valkyrie walked slowly into the room with her hands outstretched, trying not to bump into the doorframe. Her eyes were blindfolded. “I feel like a zombie.”  
“I’ve never seen a zombie walk like that,” came a muffled disembodied voice somewhere ahead of her. Valkyrie sighed in disgust. “A movie zombie, I mean. Can’t I take this off yet?” she whined.

Skulduggery came up behind her, turned her a few degrees to the right and moved her forward, then stepped away.   
“Now you can take it off.”  
Valkyrie reached up and undid the blindfold.

In front of her was the canvas- but it wasn’t covered in brown packaging. Instead, a gleaming white swan was shown proudly over a black gem that looked almost exactly like those she’d taken in the caves, except better and brighter, like someone had taken samples of the deadly rocks and managed to take them to a jeweller’s.

She stepped closer, looking at the detail. She hadn’t been to see many famous paintings in real life, but this looked better than anything she’d ever seen. The feathers looked real and the swan looked like it would turn around and swim off the painting at any moment.

“Swans are often associated with Valkyries, who occasionally appeared with them in battle, as well as the ancient Greek goddess Aphrodite. And they’re exceptionally strong, able to break a man’s neck.” Skulduggery sounded proud.

Valkyrie turned away from the painting to stare at him. She frowned at him and he faltered.

“Are you saying I used to be an ugly duckling?”

“No, I-“

“Are you saying I’m vain?”

“Well, er-“

Valkyrie’s outraged expression turned into a grin. “I’m only messing. This is wonderful.” She threw her arms around him and squeezed until she fancied she heard his ribs crack, then stepped back, finding and squeezing his hand for good measure. “God, it’s so gorgeous and fancy. How did the artist get the jewel to sparkle?”  
“Well, it wasn’t just any mortal artist, you know.”  
“Would it be too vain to hang it somewhere?”  
“Only you can be the judge of that.”

Valkyrie looked at it again. “I don’t even care if it is. It’s perfect.”


End file.
